


Ball And Chains

by FunkyinFishnet



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Developing Relationship, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Family, Multi, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-21
Updated: 2015-05-21
Packaged: 2018-03-31 14:37:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3981757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FunkyinFishnet/pseuds/FunkyinFishnet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gamora has been gone a couple of days, on a mission to retrieve a power-source during a festival that is only for female lifeforms. Then the Milano receives a message from a stranger – Gamora is waiting for her husbands. There’s thieving to be done and is Drax really looking at Peter like that? Peter works out the pros and cons of having three husbands and a wife and gets used to having blue balls.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ball And Chains

 

 

 

Gamora had been gone for a couple of days, no biggie seeing as she’d been the one to point out that swiping a the trinket from a city currently celebrating a very female festival would require just her because dressing the rest of the crew up in drag was not going to work. Peter had loudly disagreed with that assessment because he had great legs thank you very much and he’d been told before how good he looked in a skirt. Anyway, Gamora was gone because their current client – rich, charitably-inclined, huge fucking palace moon – had commissioned them to grab the swag – currently being used as an ornament of some kind apparently - and the price had been very right and the cause more than just filling a rich guys' pockets, he'd showed them his plans for it; a power source for a whole settlement.

 

Gamora had been sure that she could do it, so off she'd gone, borrowing a craft from their client which Rocket had fitted with a tracker just in case. The Guardians encountered a lot of just-in-cases, Peter had started a list.

 

It was getting hot on-board ship and boredom was definitely layering on people. Drax was sharpening his knives even more frequently than usual and Peter had lost count of how many bombs Rocket had constructed and then deconstructed – he still wasn’t sold on Rocket’s claims that he'd dismantled whatever he’d done to the washer. Groot was reassuring though and even though he thought the best of Rocket, he was also firmly against anyone getting blown up so he’d probably crush anything that Rocket left ticking accidentally-on-purpose.

 

Peter spent a lot of time in the cockpit, listening to his mixtapes, staring out at the horizon. His palm itched, right where he'd clasped the Infinity Stone. That patch had been been itching a lot lately, since Gamora had left. They were docked just over a city not too far from where Gamora was doing her thing. If anybody asked, they’d escorted her as far as they’d been allowed to come – the planet that Gamora was doing her sneaky thievery on took their gender separations very seriously during this festival, Peter had enjoyed mentally conjuring up just said festival involved and how much fun he could have had there. He’d probably have picked up a few more injuries. Ah, memories.

 

He went to adjust the volume on the stereo when he heard a beep. That wasn’t part of the song, he frowned, looking around. What had Rocket left in here? Fuck, they were going to have words. Only, oh, no it wasn’t Rocket this time, they were getting a signal. He'd brought the comm unit through from the galley, just in case. That phrase again. Gamora was checking in for the first time since leaving. Peter felt a rush of relief, Gamora could slice and dice her way through the best of them but yes, he might have worried anyway. They all had, in their own slightly unnerving ways. Something in his chest loosened.

 

Slapping a button that alerted the others that they were needed up top, he answered the call. Instead of Gamora, a woman with long orange hair braided extremely intricately and strong violet eyes appeared on screen. She looked intently at Peter, who had the sudden urge to straighten his shoulders while simultaneously checking that his flies were in fact done up. Geez, that was one hell of a stare.

 

“Peter Quill, this is the Adjunct of Farnis, speaking for Gamora.”

 

She looked expectant and shit, Peter's skin prickled urgently because this felt like a test. Had something happened to Gamora? Had she been caught, because that didn't seem likely exactly. He cleared his throat and aimed for laid back and totally not worried at all.

 

“Sure, thanks, we've been expecting your call.”

 

The Adjunct didn't look all that impressed, just as Drax, Rocket and Groot appeared in the cockpit. The Adjunct raised her eyebrows as Groot tried to get closer to the screen before sending tendrils curling around it in the friendliest of hellos.

 

“I am Groot.”

 

“No, that's definitely female, it's just not Gamora. Why isn't that Gamora?” Rocket wanted to know, his hand looking twitchy towards his gun.

 

Peter pushed himself forward and stared to speak because in his experience, people who looked as beady as the alien that was currently staring at them usually had some kind of rule book to swing and if Gamora was being held, making it worse probably shouldn't be on the menu. Before he could get past his first apology, the Adjunct shook her head.

 

“I see our guest was not lying when she described her husbands. You are to come to Farnis, the coordinates have been sent to your nav-comm. The docks are expecting you.”

 

She ended the transmission before anyone could say anything in response. In fact the cockpit stayed suspended in stunned silence for several seconds afterward as everyone tried to gather their thoughts following that bombshell. Wow, of all the curveballs thrown, multiple husbands had not been remotely close to the top of Peter's fountain of ideas.

 

A second later, the cockpit exploded with noise.

 

*

 

“She got caught.”

 

“Are you kidding? That trader didn't sense her last week when she was picking his pocket while he had his foot up her thigh. She didn't get caught.”

 

“All right, smartmouth, so what? She decided to get into the festival mood and gain four husbands?!”

 

Rocket sounded like he was choking on disbelieving laughter but Peter frowned, mentally turning over Rocket's words. Maybe the festival did have something to do with it.

 

“Maybe...”

 

Rocket put down the gun he'd been tinkering with. They were all sat in the galley, the ship locked on autopilot and following the provided coordinates which matched up with where Gamora's transmitter had last placed her so that was reassuring. It did however also smell of a huge stinking trap.

 

“Maybe what?”

 

Peter rested his foot against the wall and spun his idea out, “So there's no actual hardcopy about this festival, just that it's a blessing-fest, right? For females only. So maybe you're supposed to be married before you go there or something.”

 

Rocket cocked his head. Drax didn't stir from where he was sat at the table. He hadn't said a word since the Adjunct's communication. Peter wondered if it was the whole husband thing, all talk of Drax's marriage was pretty much sacred, no one broached the subject with him except for Rocket and that was on his own head. Gamora knew that so the fact that she'd included Drax had to mean the situation down in Farnis was pretty dire.

 

“Okay, fine, but why all four of us?” Rocket pointed out. “Is that part of the blessings too? The more husbands, the more blessings?”

 

Huh. “Could be, or maybe they wouldn't accept a happy couple traveling with three other lifeforms. You know Gamora wouldn't hitch herself to us without a good reason.”

 

That settled the room a little. Groot hummed quietly, he was pretty much back to full size now and seemed sort of contemplative. Drax still hadn't moved, Rocket was now looking less like the whole thing was a hilarious joke and more worried under his unimpressed expression. Yeah, Peter felt that too.

 

Not that the idea of being up and close and personal with Gamora in a husband and wife kind of way wasn't amazingly hot, and not that he'd mind if the others...

 

Okay, time to halt that train of thought. They were all clearly weirded out by Gamora's ploy so Peter plastered on a smile and slowly sat down next to Drax, because the thing was Drax wasn't built for subterfuge, amazingly kickass fights, yes, but not lying. Also Peter didn't want this to send Drax to the nearest bar again, his hangovers were never pretty, especially since Rocket loved messing with people when they weren't on the top of their game.

 

Peter cleared his throat, “You gonna be okay, big guy? With the whole...plan?”

 

Not that Peter had a plan yet but Gamora clearly had part of one so they'd have to make like the Kiln and improvise. Drax didn't move but he did answer.

 

“It will help retrieve our friend?”

 

“...Probably?”

 

“Then I am fine.”

 

Drax didn't say anything more. Okay, obviously not fine but Peter could take a hint. He carefully touched Drax's shoulder as he left the galley though and Drax didn't ask about the gesture or glare so apparently it'd been the right thing to do. Peter's instincts had been working overtime clearly.

 

When he got back into the cockpit, he found Rocket right behind him, his paws already working on something shiny and probably deadly. They both watched the planet and then the city of Farnis come into view, it was wreathed in what looked like blue smoke and according to the ship's instruments, music was wafting out. Still, Peter thought about how Gamora must have had her back against the wall when she'd claimed that she had five husbands waiting for her. It was still awesomely flattering though, Peter sort of wanted to preen. He'd do that later, when Gamora was safely back with them again.

 

He and Rocket stared down at the city. Peter wondered where all the men in Farnis went, did they all travel to the next city, or just wait outside the city's limits until the right sun rose and they could go back home again. There was a male festival too, wasn't there? Only it wasn't for months yet.

 

“How many bombs are you working on?”

 

“Five, maybe six. Why, do you consider them 'unsafe'?”

 

Somehow Rocket managed to make finger-quotes while doing something to a little brown box that was currently sprouting green and black wires. Peter twitched but Rocket didn't drop the box and looked at Peter as though he was crazy for even doubting, as though last week's little bathroom implosion hadn't ever happened.

 

And that wasn't actually what had been occupying Peter's mind in the first place.

 

"Make it seven."

 

Rocket stared at him for a moment, then a fierce little grin erupted over his face, accompanied by a chuckle. On most occasions, Peter would probably regret giving Rocket free reign with his explosive creations, not that not being given free reign usually stopped Rocket any but it was the principal of the thing, and it was Gamora. If bombs were needed to get her out of Farnis, then bombs it would be. Lots of them.

 

"Well, I was saving somethin' for a very special occasion..."

 

*

 

The city wasn’t blue like the smoke that surrounded it; it was more like a burnished copper. It seemed to glow under the planet’s two suns. Peter was staring and he really didn’t care. Rocket had a backpack on but no visible signs of bombs, which was good and hopefully reassuring enough. Fuck, they’d better not get searched. Groot was murmuring noise quietly, looking around with something like awe and excitement.

 

“I am Groot.”

 

“Yeah, sure, it looks pretty but I bet their prison is the same as everyone else’s.”

 

That was a cheery thought but Peter nodded, “Keep a look-out for weak spots.”

 

“Please, Quill.” Rocket already had a gadget out in his hand that could have been camera maybe, always a great cover at festival time. “Leave the hard stuff to the grown-ups.”

 

“I do not see Gamora,” Drax announced abruptly, not looking pleased.

 

Yeah, that was a worry but maybe someone else had come to meet them as they stepped off ship. Peter glanced at Drax, who hadn’t said anything since their conversation in the galley. His knives were sheathed for the moment but he did have a quick temper so this could be tricky, especially seeing as the whole ruse counted on Drax being convincing as Gamora’s husband.

 

“Hey, you know they’re going to expect…stuff,” Peter tried, wincing at his own efforts. Nice, where had all his usually smooth words gone?

 

Drax turned to him. “What expectations do jailers have, a prison break?”

 

“Ah, we don’t know it’s going to come to that, probably but it might not. We’ve got to be Gamora’s husbands and they’ve got to believe that or the prison break might become actual reality, again.”

 

Peter was struck by the thought that maybe Drax would now prefer prison over pretending to be anyone’s husband. But Drax looked at Peter for a long moment as though digesting his words, that was good thing, right?

 

“Marriage, even a false one, is an arrangement that I will honor, for a friend,” Drax said at last.

 

Huh, that was a change of tune. Peter stared at him, “That’s…unexpected, not the friend part, that’s, right back at you, but really?”

 

Drax favored him with another look, this one made Peter feel a little heated from his extremities upward while curling together with some entirely understandable confusion on Peter’s part. Because was this Drax suddenly discovering some convincing acting skills or was he throwing out a statement? Either one was really good. Peter’s throat suddenly felt dry and though Drax didn’t touch him, he did loom closer and the heat inside Peter ratcheted up a little. Okay, so convincing so far, and wow was he going to have blue balls if there wasn’t any follow through later. Where was this coming from on Drax’s side of things? And how exactly could Peter ask that without getting a fist to the face for mentioning Drax’s wife?

 

Drax finally broke the silence, “This planet is close to the fourth system, marriages there are frequently made for business. I have encountered them before.”

 

Gamora could have done too, nice get-out. Drax was still looking at Peter, then his arm grazed Peter’s, and that felt important. But then Rocket was muttering something, his tail brushing Peter’s leg, as a couple of figures appeared to meet them. One was male and the other female according to Rocket – the festival must have finished then. Both the male and female had long braided hair and the male was wearing some sort of headdress. Their outfits were almost tailored and they were, yeah, both very attractive.

 

“We bring greetings from the Adjunct and your beloved,” the female announced with something that could have been a smile.

 

“Come.”

 

The male bowed slightly as he spoke and then beckoned them on.

 

“I am Groot.”

 

“No, beloved is not the right word for Gamora. You want her to cut your arms off again?”

 

Peter started walking after their hosts, not wanting to seem rude, his thoughts spinning. Drax had been stone-cold not-thrilled before and now he was, what, flirting? Drax seemed more the type to slay something or someone and dump the corpse down as a great first impression. Honestly, that could work for Peter, if it was Drax doing the slaying. Anyway, something had clearly changed, Drax did not seem the type to easily go along with a fake-marriage plan. So what had happened?

 

“Seriously, you’re all right? You’re acting a little out there, buddy,” he hissed subtly to Drax as they followed their hosts.

 

“Out where?”

 

Jesus. “It’s fine, I am all about the equal opportunities. Tentacles, fins, multiple limbs, all fun times in my experience, I just didn’t think you were…interested.”

 

Because _it 's pretty fucking clear you’re hung up on your dead wife, dude, and nobody blames you_ was absolutely not the thing to say, not when they were in the middle of serious subterfuge. Still Drax seemed to get his meaning because he paused before answering.

 

“My heart hasn’t changed. My wife would have liked you, Peter Quill.”

 

Peter’s heart felt like it had bounced and he couldn’t say anything because they’d arrived apparently. It wasn’t a huge building; it looked like maybe it was their City Hall though. There were guards outside who were definitely armed with guns, though Rocket snorted and fiddled with his gadget in a way that reeked of being unimpressed. Good to know.

 

“Remember, Gamora’s got the lead,” Peter muttered in an undertone.

 

“So what else is new,” Rocket cracked as he followed Peter in.

 

Inside everything was cool and shady and there were crowds of males and females talking together quietly, some of them holding hands. Ah, well the festival was over so everyone was glad to see each other obviously. Peter watched some kissing that was definitely enthusiastic, clearly those marriages weren’t just business arrangements. His mouth sort of went dry thinking about kissing Gamora or Drax and his cock went hard again. Fuck.

 

“Geez, how old are you?” Rocket sniped, wrinkling his nose.

 

“I am Groot.”

 

“I know, buddy, but I don’t go spreading my hormones to the wind like hair-trigger here.”

 

There was a pleasant thought and Groot stretched out a tendril to touch Peter’s back and Rocket was keeping a close eye on the crowds, just in case. The crowds were actually turning to look at them as they walked through because, well, not everybody knew a flora colossi or a walking talking raccoon. Peter smiled a little when he caught some people’s eyes, because there were a lot of hot people around, but kept an eye out for Gamora. Was she actually in prison?

 

They entered a room which looked kind of official; there was some kind of symbol painted on the floor and a gaggle of males in those headdresses, and a lot of females including the Adjunct who nodded at them. And there was Gamora standing beside her, not in chains or anything but her shoulders definitely relaxed when she caught sight of the group. Peter winked, which just made her look like she wanted to roll her eyes. A really good sign.

 

“Welcome to you all,” the Adjunct took the lead.

 

Gamora nodded and something warm sort of vaguely happened to her mouth which did funny things to Peter’s insides, good things, definitely good things. The Adjunct smiled, which was apparently a signal because Gamora stepped forward and Groot matched her.

 

“I am Groot.”

 

Gamora’s smile was soft for a moment, her back to the strangers and her face towards the crew, as Groot’s branches reached for her, as though checking she was okay.

 

“I am well. Thank you.”

 

“I am Groot.”

 

There was a murmur then because Groot’s branches were changing now, forming and shaping into what looked like a chair. It wasn’t a throne but it was sort of elaborate at the arms and it was just the right size for Gamora. Groot had worked it so that he was pretty much behind her like a sentinel or a warning. Gamora sat down, a couple of white flowers blossoming over her shoulder.

 

“Show off,” Rocket muttered, though his tone held more than a few shades of affection and pride and if Peter hadn’t already had an inkling that Groot and Rocket were a package-deal in every sense of the word, he'd definitely got the message now.

 

The Adjunct stepped forward then and Peter made himself listen.

 

“We insist you spend a night here. You must be ready for some time on solid ground.”

 

Yeah, very true. Peter turned to look at Gamora who nodded. The Adjunct was looking at her too, like she was expecting Gamora to be the one to answer. Okay, so females were first here, good to know. Peter hoped that Drax had gotten the message too.

 

The crowd was muttering again and Peter was beginning to feel on display. Was that the idea? A test, or maybe the Adjunct actually wanted to know more about this marriage? Either way it probably meant trouble and Rocket was wandering towards a very shiny looking object up on a table. Peter was all for a nice piece of theft, but not when the people being stolen from were right fucking there and armed.

 

“Rocket,” Peter hissed, hoping he wasn’t overhead.

 

“What? I’m just interested in culture and shit, especially when it’s shiny.”

 

“I am Groot.”

 

“Like you were any better around that field on Bajar. Don’t start with me, I’ve got a million of them.”

 

The Adjunct was watching them with what Peter hoped was amusement, he tried to look apologetic and excuse-my-husbands-they’re-not-housetrained. At least they all argued like several married couples Peter had met.

 

“It’s an interesting choice, allowing your husbands to intermingle. It doesn’t breed jealousy?”

 

Gamora looked amused and it really suited her. “On the contrary.”

 

The Adjunct nodded sagely and turned to talk to the crowd for a moment. Peter tried not to gargle up nonsense because he was now thinking of very gorgeous images and he really wanted to enjoy them. The weird thing was that Gamora wasn’t looking at him like she wanted to slice and dice him at the thoughts he was entertaining, instead there was a lick of something else in her eyes. It was probably for the crowds but Peter was going to hoard that look for later. Boy, was he.

 

“Rocket, do not touch the court’s pieces,” Gamora said, glancing over at Rocket.

 

They held each other’s gazes for a long moment – the crowd could read what they liked there but Peter knew that sometimes Gamora and Rocket understood each other on a really certain level, having both been put under the knife for augmentations that neither of them had actually wanted. He hoped this was one of those times, apparently Gamora had more than a bit of a plan and she didn’t want Rocket ruining it with his compulsive thievery.

 

“He has a good eye,” the Adjunct remarked. “That sphere has been in Farnis for centuries, one of our festival symbols.”

 

Everyone was looking at the sphere now, that might have been Gamora’s plan because Rocket was furiously tapping at his gadget as he moved towards Gamora muttering under his breath and she was talking back just as quietly before turning to the Adjunct.

 

“He has an eye for beautiful things,” Gamora said, more a statement than an apology.

 

She didn’t add _and then he takes them_ but the Adjunct seemed to get the picture and didn’t look remotely shocked. Huh, maybe this particular theft for the common good would work out fine. The Adjunct clapped her hands together.

 

“I can see you are well furnished with husbands, but my offer remains; there are several here who would be proud to bear your name.”

 

Hold it, more husbands?! And Gamora wasn’t immediately refusing, instead she was looking considering because…because an immediate refusal would probably offend someone and there were now guards in the room holding guns. Peter’s expression was fluctuating; he hoped he hadn’t paused too long on horrified.

 

Drax was the first to speak, “We do not need more. There is no room on the ship.”

 

Which was true and the Adjunct didn’t look offended by a practicality. Gamora lifted her chin towards a line of males that the Adjunct had apparently picked out for her. So apparently the ‘married with four husbands’ bit wasn’t a shock in Farnis, maybe it was the more husbands you had, the more powerful you seemed? Or the more blessings you got, that had been a theory, hadn't it?

 

“Do any seem a suitable challenge to you?”

 

Gamora was speaking and Drax looked down the line. None of them looked particularly muscular or strong, though they weren’t looking too scared by Drax’s stare either. Drax shook his head.

 

“Not enough for sport, let alone marriage.”

 

Gamora nodded like that was exactly what she’d been thinking, the Adjunct gestured towards the line again.

 

“A demonstration perhaps, to settle the matter?”

 

Woah, risky, what if they had super-powers? But Rocket was shaking his head, apparently his gadget wasn’t giving off any warning signs and he’d slipped his readers on, the goggles that told him everything he needed to know about potential targets. He scampered up the chair that Gamora was sitting on care of Groot and settled down on the branch just above the high back, apparently to get a better view. He also had his gun to hand like he was waiting for a comment about his behavior which was apparently fine because it was Groot, Groot who was already sliding tendrils around Rocket and making a noise that Rocket was muttering about.

 

“Place your bets,” Rocket announced to the room. “My money’s on the big guy.”

 

Drax smiled wide, the smile that he’d worn when they’d watched Groot completely demolish Ronan’s minions. It looked good on him. Like Peter wasn’t going to notice that.

 

“Mine too,” Peter added, because of course he was going to bet on Drax, that was his husband right there and Peter was going to milk it.

 

Drax looked pleased and unsheathed a couple of his favorite knives as the Adjunct stepped aside. The line of men split apart and produced sort of curved staffs, they moved with intent.

 

“No casualties, Drax,” Gamora said, perfectly calmly.

 

Drax had to block a blow in lieu of any actual reply. Since Peter wasn’t fighting beside Drax this time, he could actually watch and appreciate Drax’s work. Because he looked good, effortless and like he was having the best fucking time because this wasn’t about vengeance, this was Drax just stretching his legs and having a good time with willing opponents. Gamora inclined her head towards Peter; he edged closer, not wanting to take his eyes off the fight.

 

“Couldn’t resist me any longer, right?”

 

Gamora definitely rolled her eyes this time. “If you’d rather be thrown in prison for stepping foot in Farnis uncoupled then so be it.”

 

Okay so Peter had been on the money – you did need to be married to visit Farnis. And since they were clearly all for multiple partners, naming them all Gamora’s husbands did cut down on trying to remember who was married to who.

 

“I’d be a great husband,” he told her.

 

Gamora’s expression slanted with amusement, “Perhaps if your wife was deaf.”

 

Hey, Peter could sing like an angel when he put his mind to it. At the moment though, Rocket was shouting encouragement to Drax and the crowd seemed captivated by the fight. Maybe that was why Gamora had agreed to it, it’d given her and Peter a chance to actually talk unsupervised.

 

“You’ve got the trinket?”

 

“It’s in the next room, a decoration not a sacred object. When I tried to enter the chamber, I was prevented and asked about my husband. Since I had no identification declaring my marriage…”

 

“They called and invited us down here for proof, got it. Hey, do you think Drax is in to it? He was all wounded-widower earlier but then when we got here, he looked at me like...it could have lit a fire, I’m telling you.”

 

Gamora was looking at him like he was a dog who’d performed a particularly darling trick. Peter sort of wanted to preen again.

 

“That was not the first time he looked at you in such a manner.”

 

What? Really? And how had Peter missed that? There was that lick of _something_ in Gamora’s expression again; please say it wasn’t just a taunt or just for the crowds. Fuck, Peter’s pants felt tight and that thought he’d had earlier about not minding being pretend married to his crew, it really was out of its box now.

 

Drax swept a figure off their feet and sliced a staff clean through. Someone clobbered him from behind but he only stumbled, he didn’t fall. Eventually, the last figure was downed and there was Drax, standing triumphant. He nodded at Gamora, she nodded back, and the stunned crowd clapped. The Adjunct stepped forward to talk to Gamora again.

 

“I see now. Should you change your mind, I will find you another fine husband.”

 

Wait, was the Adjunct not only in charge in Farnis but also like a matchmaker? The most forceful kind with armed guards at her disposal, because that would be a hell of a wall to get backed up against. Did all festivals here involve the possibility of getting forcefully hitched?

 

“Thank you,” Gamora said, somehow without gagging at the thought of being shotgunned to a total stranger. “My husbands and I now require rest and privacy.”

 

“Of course, your room is ready. The blessing can wait until tomorrow.”

 

What blessing? Before Peter could ask, they were being led away. Groot’s chair retracted back into tendrils and branches as soon as Gamora stood up. The Adjunct was talking to the crowd, saying something about studying such a good model for a multiple-partner marriage. Yeah, well she wasn’t present when there was a queue for the bathroom or when Rocket let explosives lying around or Groot got destructively curious. Peter slapped Drax on the back.

 

“Nice knife work, big guy.”

 

“They had some skill,” Drax replied not quite grudgingly.

 

The group had to walk up a few staircases, Peter took note of the exits and gazed at Drax’s impressive muscles and Groot and Rocket talking quietly up ahead, Gamora answering the questions that their guide was asking. That had to be an awkward conversion but as Gamora wasn’t reaching for a weapon, Peter decided not to interfere. He had a great view from the back anyway.

 

The room they were shown into was large with a fucking huge bed in it. Rocket somersaulted down from Groot’s shoulder and began exploring, no doubt picking up a few shiny things on the way. The guide blinked a lot looking at them, like she couldn’t quite take them all in. Yeah, they did have that effect on people. Peter smirked a little and the guide’s eyes widened. Was flirting to people outside of your fake marriage frowned upon here?

 

“He has not been planetside for some time,” Gamora said, revealing that she had in fact noticed.

 

The guide looked understanding and still a little wide-eyed but her gaze looked pretty set on hero-worship when fixed on Gamora as she left the room. Once the door closed, Gamora’s shoulders dropped free of even more tension. It said a lot, that she trusted the Guardians that much. It might not have seemed like much to anyone else but Peter could read Gamora well enough now. She was glad to see them.

 

“So, wife, good to know we’re all the marrying kind and you know, somebody's first choice.”

 

Gamora narrowed a gaze at him. “Prison is still an option.”

 

A sentence that would probably end with another marriage if the Adjunct had her way. So no, Peter was fine with people he actually knew and cared about.

 

“I’m good, thanks.”

 

Gamora’s mouth lifted like she’d heard what he hadn’t said as Rocket trotted back into view.

 

“No cameras or audio traps. So that’s half the crazy unworkable plan, what’s next, a divorce?”

 

Gamora shook her head. “The room the power source sits in is sacred, only those who are married are permitted entry. Once we enter they will give a blessing over our union.”

 

“We could say we need a moment afterward, some private time after the blessing, and swipe the source.”

 

Peter could see where Gamora was going and it definitely worked. But there was something in the way her gaze moved that caught at Peter's instincts. He mentally ran through what she’d told them and then his heart sort of surged. His palm itched like crazy.

 

“No fucking way.” That got everyone’s attention. “We have to actually get married tomorrow?!”

 

“The blessing is a renewal of vows. The festival finished today, traditionally this means that many of the city's reunited couples feel a great deal has been learned and so in light of this, commitments are renewed.”

 

Peter could feel a headache coming on. Okay, actually married, they were going to get actually married because the Adjunct was clearly hell-bent on it in a passive-aggressive way that had Gamora falling in line and oh fuck, how was Drax going to react?

 

“I am Groot.”

 

“You sap.”

 

Rocket sounded fond and when everyone looked at him, he shrugged, deliberately casual. “Groot’s for it.”

 

Which probably meant by proxy that Rocket was too because he wasn't loudly arguing against it. Peter wasn't the only one staring at him now. Rocket looked back impatiently, projecting a very forceful air of no biggie.

 

“What? You want to get separated again the next time we hit Strobe and they only let married folks past certain doorways, where all the good stuff is? Or when someone wants to nibble on Quill's weird Terran vibe in a permanent kind of way? Or he sticks his parts near people who want to snap them off or won't take 'no' for a permanent bonding answer? This could break down a lot of doors for us and kept certain asses intact and free of _whining_.”

 

Okay, put like that, it did make sense. There were some systems that afforded certain privileges to married people, not being separated was a bonus there, as it was in most situations. Okay, yes, this could be great.

 

Especially since there was a little part, okay a big part, secreted inside of Peter that was dancing victoriously at that moment. It felt awesome.

 

Also he didn't whine, nobody wanted to get nibbled on by someone a couple of storeys high. Rocket would have been the first to complain if he'd been the one in the firing (nibbling?) line.

 

“It is a strong idea,” that was Drax and the surprises kept rolling. “We would be protected, together.”

 

That was all he said, maybe he was thinking in terms of a business arrangement or maybe that look he was sort of slinging towards Peter said that he was interested in a whole lot more, the sort of whole lot more that his wife would have approved of apparently. Good to know. Peter could feel his cock hardening very obviously and resolutely did not look at Rocket.

 

“Okay then, marriage, it gets us out of here without any additions except for the trinket power source thing.”

 

And it made the bonds between them all stronger, bonds that had been there since before the Infinity Stone had weighed and measured and linked them in some weird indefinable way. Peter could see that, how Gamora was holding Drax's gaze and how Groot was sending out tendrils and Rocket was looking sort of smug and maybe even contented under his usual smirk. This kind of marriage wasn't the kind that he remembered from TV shows or his mom's friends, there'd usually been a white dress and a church involved back then, not to mention declarations of love and eternal devotion. This wasn't exactly convenience, it was more like it being the best choice. And really the only one, the one that mattered.

 

They slept that night in the same enormous bed, a big pile of intertwined limbs. It'd happened once or twice on the ship, especially after the Infinity Stone experience. There'd been a few nightmares and some great gaping holes of loneliness that nobody had talked about but they hadn't really needed to, they'd been able to huddle together, make sure they'd been in arms' reach of each other and slept the sleep of the marginally more secure. It'd been a saving grace really, being together, even when Peter had wanted to toss Rocket out into space for some of the surprises he'd left in the galley and Drax had wanted to lay all of his anger out onto Gamora. Even then.

 

The bed was very comfortable and Gamora lay in the middle, because she'd been separated from them for a while and was apparently sick of talking to people who kept trying to find out more about her husbands. Groot actually took the floor, right up against the bed, but a lot of his branches and tendrils took up space on the bed itself, keeping Rocket from falling off the end. Rocket had his tail almost wrapped around himself and was sort of close to Gamora, close enough for his fur to touch her. Peter got the other side of her and kept his hands above the waist because he'd already let them drift once or twice and Gamora had elbowed him sharply and had reminded him of what she always kept hidden in her boots and possibly somehow on her belt too. So Peeter's hands were above the waist, sort of around her arm and intertwined with her nearest hand. Drax lay at the other end of the bed, facing the door, his knives very much in evidence, his hands touching the legs before him.

 

Nobody spoke, apart from when Rocket complained about a knife being way too close to his hide and Groot burbled a sound that made Rocket shove at a nearby vine with a mutter that nobody could hear coherently. Gamora pinched Peter's knee when he shifted to try and find a more comfortable position. But he slept well eventually, because the knots of worry that had been way too ugly under his skin since Gamora had left on this particular mission were finally loosening.

 

*

 

In the morning, the Adjunct called them to the room that Gamora had told them about. There was the power-source, almost within grabbing distance, one of many pieces embedded in the declaration suspended by grav-bots at the front of the room. It was a declaration about the importance of marriage, of course. Peter paid more attention to the power-source, he knew about stuff like loyalty already.

 

The blessing was actually pretty short. They just repeated a few words when the Adjunct told them to and then she spoke in a couple of different languages and made a sign in the air that made Gamora take a slightly sharp breath.

 

And that was it, they were married. Huh. Holding the Infinity Stone had felt like more of an event.

 

“May I be the first to congratulate you on such a blessed union.” The Adjunct looked very pleased. “Now, where would you like your tattoos?”

 

It was just a mark, something that looked like the symbol painted on the floor next door; apparently it would be recognized on many planets. Gamora looked at her hand and seemed to be remembering something, the touch of Peter's skin maybe, amplified by the Infinity Stone? Peter scratched his own palm.

 

Gamora had the mark made on the skin between her thumb and forefinger. Peter had the same, as did the others. They even found a way to mark Groot without any negative consequences, with Rocket watching eagle-eyed beside him. It was a small symbol; it wasn't going to catch anyone's attention unless they were looking for it.

 

Peter kept looking at it and he was very aware of the others, it was like another layer had been added to what they already shared and didn't talk about. He felt Rocket brush past him, his fur soft, the touch meaningful because Rocket did not like being petted and went out of his way to make sure that the only touching he did was fighting. Peter's heart bounced again.

 

The Adjunct was thanking them for visiting and for agreeing to the blessing, as though there'd been a choice involved. Still, marriage, a business arrangement, sure. He could feel Drax's breath and Gamora was listening to the Adjunct, something about wedding traditions.

 

Something clicked firmly into place. “Hey, do you guys know about the tradition of wedding gifts?”

 

The Adjunct did and Peter revealed that they didn't really want much, not much at all.

 

*

 

Things were different but they stayed the same too. Outside of the brawls that they were all regularly part of, they were still a group of careful touches. Gamora was still learning that not every touch was a hidden agenda, even if Peter really did want to get a lot closer and he was pretty sure he wasn't the only one. Drax's moods still blew hot and cold, but he'd started touching the others more, like clapping their shoulders and pressing a hand to the small of a back or trailing vine. Before, that had only happened during the adrenaline rush that came after winning a fight. Rocket still didn't like being petted but his tail sometimes draped over people or he'd sit close so that his leg touched someone else's. Groot had always been tactile and that had only increased now, though he was learning where and when his tendrils were welcome. Peter still kept his hands above the waist but made it known he was open to negotiation.

 

They shared a bed more often, all of them connected somehow. They still didn't talk about it, much, but there were occasional words thrown out there now. Peter was kind of looking forward to hearing about Nova Prime looking at their records during the next month or so; the Adjunct had told them that their blessing would show up on all data streams. So people would know that challenging one Guardian meant challenging them all, which was common knowledge anyway, and people knew that trying to eliminate or kidnap one Guardian meant suffering the considerable wrath of the whole group, which was also common knowledge. Maybe things hadn't really changed. It felt good, in a weird way that Peter hadn’t ever really experienced before. His heart hadn't stopped bouncing.

 

*

 

“Hey!”

 

Laser fire dashed across the room. The guy who'd gotten a hand around Rocket's wrist, despite the vicious biting, yelped in pain and dropped the raccoon. Gamora was currently throttling someone with considerable expertise. Peter considered it romantic. Drax was dealing with a couple of really big guys outside so he was having fun. Groot was lashing out and looking like he was about to raze the bar and everyone in it unless Rocket was put back to rights. Rocket dusted himself off, kicked the leg of the guy still nursing his injured arm, and stomped over to where Groot was waiting.

 

“I'm fine.”

 

“I am Groot!”

 

“You need your stems checked. I'm _fine_.”

 

Peter smiled at the people with their hands up, not believing the surrender for a second. “You know, we just wanted some information. None of us were looking for a fight, well except Drax.”

 

“I am Groot.”

 

“And you shouldn't have put your hands on Groot's husband. So if we could have that information, then he might not actually uproot this place, thanks.”

 

Gamora floored the guy who'd been refusing to go down and stayed where she was, keeping an eye on things from there. By the sounds of it, Drax was still having fun outside but didn't need any help. Not that he'd tell them if he did, but they'd all learned to listen out for the rare signs that he was getting on the losing end of a fight, just in case.

 

A data-chip sailed over the bar; Rocket caught it and spun it between his paws, “Hello, sexy.”

 

“You’ll make us all jealous, Rocket,” Peter started backing up towards the door.

 

“It keeps things fresh, don't you think? Jealousy, a little plastic explosive, that’s marriage, right? What's not to love?”

 

Some patrons began to babble at the mention of explosives and Groot swooped Rocket up and out of the door. Thank fuck. A moment later, Gamora and Peter joined them. Rocket was biting down on the data-chip.

 

“I've copied it already. Hey, we got a whole bar to piss themselves, let’s do that again somewhere else. And if we come back here they'll give us anything we want because they’ll be wanting to know where I tucked away a little partin' gift.”

 

Oh of course. Jesus, Rocket was still the definition of overkill. Peter couldn’t even say that Rocket was doing it out of protective affection, the raccoon just liked to attack before he had to defend. “You left a bomb in a bar. Nobody’s going to fall over it, right? Or accidentally set it off? Or link it to us? Or mistake it for a refill?”

 

“What do you take me for, an amateur?”

 

“I am Groot!”

 

“That was five years ago and I thought we’d agreed that that never actually happened!”

 

*

 

Peter pressed a thumb to his tattoo. He was in the galley; beer in hand, when he noticed a movement, Drax was staring at his own tattoo. Peter wondered suddenly what Drax and his wife had done, had they exchanged jewelry? Or had they done something else, like a tattoo? Would there ever be a good time to ask?

 

Peter retrieved an extra bottle from the fridge and put it on the table in front of Drax. So long as Drax didn't fight with Groot again or try to race Rocket or something, Peter figured they were okay with giving Drax alcohol, and Drax looked like a guy who needed a drink. Drax gazed at the bottle for a moment, then his mouth smiled and something happened to his eyes.

 

“You are a good husband, Peter Quill.”

 

Gamora was meditating in the next room along; she'd looked sort of peaceful when Peter had dipped his head round the door. He had wondered if she'd ever done that with Nebula, something else he doubted he'd ever know the right time to ask. Maybe if Gamora brought the subject up first. Rocket had been working on their planetside communicators, now Peter could see him walking towards Gamora's room, Groot close behind him.

 

“I am Groot!”

 

“You need your stems checked.”

 

Drax's hand touched Peter's, tracing the tattoo. Peter's tongue dried, that heat was rising again. He’d caught Rocket looking at him and his tattoo a couple of times already, and looking at Gamora’s and Drax’s marks too. Peter had been dealing with blue balls for days now but he was coping. They were all adults here, apparently, and things were definitely incrementally moving so it wasn't like he was on the road to nowhere. Not at all.

 

His hand sort of closed around Drax's and traced near Drax's tattoo in return. He started humming 'Moonage Daydream' and somebody somewhere began humming along with him.

 

_-the end_


End file.
